


guitar hero

by heibai



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, band!au, celebrating the precious renmin friendship, comedy?, hbdrenjun!!, something random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heibai/pseuds/heibai
Summary: Slowly, Renjun laid down all the predicaments that were weighing on him, honestly only hoping that by the silence at the end of his story, he would be able to let out a deep, relieved sigh from getting to vent out all of his misfortunes.But Jaemin proved that he was ready to give him so much more."Just hang in there for a second, okay? I'll get my bass and together, we'll seize the day."





	guitar hero

**Author's Note:**

> something short and random to celebrate the sweetest boi's birthday (and the sweetest bean's return)  
> i love them so much-

 

Universe is a cruel, cruel, mischievous mistress. You know how she likes to toy with your life in the moment when all you ever wanted was for it to run smoothly? How it seems that just with an easy press of a button, everything can _and_ _will_ burn, falling down from the sky and collecting on the ground in a sad pile of smoking ash.

 

That was exactly what happened to Renjun on the most important day of his life. The day that he’s been waiting to come ever since he’d grown big enough to hold a guitar. Everything that he did, all the practices in those cheap studios, fiddling with his guitar long into the night much to the annoyance to his neighbors, all the pulled tooth and cut up nails, the sheddings of blood, sweat, and tears, all that shizz, everything had been leading up to this day.

 

The day of his band's debut on a mainstream television.

 

But who would've thought the keyboardist, Chenle, just realized that his visa was going to be expired  _ on the exact same day that said visa was scheduled to be expired _ and thus had to do an emergency evacuation for the risk of being deported. It was such an emergency he essentially left everything behind and ran to the airport with only a half filled water bottle, a pair of spare clothes, and ten thousand won in his wallet. 

 

Who would've thought the drummer, Jeno, would get a severe case of stomach flu and was then unwittingly made into a prisoner inside his small bathroom. Bum glued on the toilet and head on the edge of his moldy sink, a two ended pipe with no discernable hope to fix its leaking anytime soon. 

 

And who would've thought the main vocalist, Donghyuk, would get his achilles heel snapped perfectly in two after a rigorous game of badminton.

 

It  _ was _ a miracle of probability for the three of them to be struck by misfortune at the same day. If this was a skit on one of those late night comedy show, Renjun would’ve laugh himself to tears for how stupid and improbable it all was. 

 

But it did happen. 

 

This was his reality. 

 

And so Renjun could only slump on a dirty old amplifier box at the backstage of one major TV station, vision blurred from the moisture that welled onto his eyes from the uncountable witch brew of emotion bubbling inside his stomach. Anger? Frustration? Hopelessness? Renjun was too exhausted to pick and investigate on the real reason for his tears and decided that for all he cared, maybe all of those emotions were present.    
  
If he was too tired to do some self-insight exercise, Renjun was then surely far too tired to care for the panicked stage assistants whispering urgent sentences onto their walkie talkie. 

 

What would they do anyway? Try to find replacements for the missing members of his band? In the little window of time that they got? He didn't think so.

 

Well, and even if they managed to find some, Renjun didn't think they would be able to learn the songs in time, because believe it or not, there were no existing music sheets of any of their songs. When two members of your band couldn't differentiate between a C and an E, you're going to have to find other ways to play your music.

 

There were also questions floating around that asked if he would ever be able to go out there and perform alone. Well, that completely went against the point of him joining a band, but in the thick of the situation, Renjun’s head somehow moved on its own, up and down, up and down in a nod. 

 

Yes, he could've easily told everyone to just postpone their performance, but he was so afraid that this was a once in a lifetime situation. Who was going to remember about the unknown indie pop band? Nobody. That rescheduling phone call would never come, for that he was sure. There are lots of indie bands out there desperate for attention just as much as his did. If one didn't make it, doesn't matter. Just pick some other band and you're good to go.

 

That was why it was now or never. 

 

_ ‘Do or die, there’s no coma’ _ type of situation. 

 

The problem was, everytime the word  _ 'solo' _ came around in his mind, Renjun could feel his stomach growling and turning like a broken washing machine. So much so, that he was starting to fear that he caught a bit of Jeno’s stomach flu. 

 

_ I can’t to sing at a stage alone! My voice would crack! I can’t reach those high notes! I would forget the lyrics! Oh dear God, help me!  _

 

Unable to handle the stress all by himself any longer, Renjun dug into his pocket in search of his phone and with trembling fingers punched in a number to reach his trusty sidekick. His best friend. His  _ numero uno _ .

 

The second beep hasn’t even completed its sharp meep when the other party picked up his phone and asked a question in his trademarked mildly interested tone,  _ "Eyy Renjun, How's it?"  _

 

Even without Renjun needing to spell it out, it was clear that he  _ wasn’t  _ having fun. The question being answered only with silence and a faint sound of teeth clattering with each other was the living proof of that.  _ "Hey, don't panic, with how long you've practiced, I'm sure everything will be fine," _ but his friend’s lighthearted consolation did nothing much to brighten his mood and fell flat on the ground, cozily saddling up with his eviscerated hope and dreams. 

 

"Jaemin..." The first noise that came out from his throat sounded so painfully pathetic. A choked whisper, just like how a mouse might've sound if it could talk.

 

After hearing Renjun’s blatant show of distress, there was a clear change of tone and atmosphere on the other end of the call. Like a click of a pen, it went from lighthearted to serious. From trying to console to ready for a riot.  _ "What happened?"  _

 

"I don't know anymore..." That moment was the first time for Renjun to really think everything over. All his misfortunes and potential golden opportunities slipping away just like sand escaping the grasp of his fingers, and he never wanted to let go and cry his heart out as hard as when he was sitting in that dingy amplifier. Feeling so alone in such a crowded and busy place. But he tried his best to keep those tears inside. Crying later would be easy, For now, all he needed to do was make sure to not upset Jaemin.

 

Because god knows what an upset Jaemin might do. Renjun’s desire to escape his duties by burning down the tv station with a homemade molotov cocktail might not stay as an imagination for so long. 

 

It didn't seem to work, though, as the next time Jaemin spoke, anger was palpable in his words, boiling hot beneath his sentences,  _ "did anyone treat you badly? Did anyone bully you?! God dammit, that's why I told you I should've been there! You know what? I'm going. I'm going! Just wait and see, I'm going!"  _

 

Behind all his yellings, Renjun could hear Jaemin trying and failing to put on his shoes by using only one hand and he couldn't help but weakly laugh at the utter absurdity of the situation he found himself in, "no, no, they've been very nice to me.” 

 

_ "Me? Are they not nice to the others then?" _ Sometimes, having a cunning observer as a friend has its own perks. In this case, it is them taking a blind shot in the dark and still somehow managing to hit the bullseye.

 

Slowly, careful as to not let his tears of frustration leak from his loose tear ducts, Renjun laid down all the predicaments that were weighing on him, honestly hoping for nothing in return. He just hoped that by the silence at the end of his story, he would be able to let out a deep, relieved sigh from getting to vent out all of his misfortunes.

 

But Jaemin proved that he was ready to give him so much more.

 

_ "Just hang in there for a second, okay? I'll get my bass and together, we'll seize the day." _

 

 

 

\- - - - 

 

 

 

He hasn’t even taken five steps inside the backstage and Jaemin was already pestered by three headpiece-wearing, tablets-carrying staffs asking him questions in the notes of,  _ 'who are you and what are you doing here?'  _

 

Jaemin's unannounced appearance with his run down bass guitar might come off as a bit worrying for some. But he didn't care. He just wanted to be there for his best pal. Help Renjun fulfill his lifelong dream, even if it means doing something Jaemin never really wanted to do or even remotely enjoyed.

 

Yes, he was a good bassist. Great, even. But no. Jaemin wasn't really a performer. At all. The last time he performed alone in front of an audience was back in elementary school during a Christmas celebration. 

 

Funny how this stage avoider was personally such a hot blooded person. 

 

But the moment Renjun laid his eyes on him, the Savior of the night, and ran towards him to give him the bearest bear hug in the history of bear hugs, whispering panicked  _ 'oh my god' _ s and  _ 'thankyou' _ s to his ears, Jaemin knew  _ at least _ he won't be performing alone that night.

 

"5 minutes mark people, 5 minutes, get ready for places," a disinterested voice boomed through an overhead announcement system and a shiver of nervousness shot through Renjun's nervous system.

 

"Fuuuuuuuuuucckkkkkk," Renjun breathed out like a deflated balloon while erratically tapping his fingers on Jaemin’s shoulders, "are you sure you know in what key to play, the chords, the tempo, the..."

 

"Dude," Jaemin gave Renjun a taste of his medicine by firmly smacking him on both of his shoulders, strong enough that the pain must’ve reseted his brain. Because for the first time in that night, Renjun was no longer a chaotic ball made out of annoying ticks of anxiety. He only stood there, eyes wide, arms resting on his side, and fully giving his attention to the person that most deserved it, "I've heard you play this song so many times I've memorized it."

 

He never knew that. He never knew that Jaemin ever listened to his practices, as he would more often than just curl at the corner of the rented studio with his ears fully enveloped inside his gigantic noise cancelling headphones. Little did Renjun know, the headphone was never plugged to anything. Jaemin always listens. 

 

And because he didn’t know, Renjun couldn't help but let out one last squeaky, "are you sure?" 

 

Jaemin’s exaggerated eye roll was stopped halfway (right when his iris were hidden behind his upper eyelid, leaving him looking like a crazed, demon possessed teenager for the next five seconds or so), when one panicked stage assistant went and approached them. They could see that she was dragging with her a wide eyed, open mouthed, short and spunky kid.

 

"I found one," still heaving for breath, she pointed at the boy who was giddily waving his hand at Renjun, "a drummer."

 

The two boys could only look at him in silence. Renjun smiling awkwardly and returning those overly excited waves with his limp ones, and Jaemin staring with his eyebrows raised in an apparent display of surprise.

 

The boy reached behind his back to slip out two worn out drum sticks from the pocket of his tattered jeans. Gripping them tight, he took a step forward and with the biggest, most eye blinding grin ever, he said, "I'm a huge fan of yours."

 

"Do you... Know him?" Jaemin asked in a whisper.

 

"Yes." Was all that Renjun managed to say before suddenly a flurry of hands from people in black shirts came about and ushered them to the left wing of the stage.

 

Renjun looked at the woman standing right by the mouth of the stage entrance, who was holding the biggest tablet in her arms, who seemed to be the ringleader of all this mess, with so much nervousness in his eyes Jaemin was so afraid it’ll froth over in the form of unstoppable tears, "but... They told me we are fifth in line."

 

She clicked her pen off and stared back at Renjun with a curt smile, "change of plan, then."

 

Going up without doing dress rehearsal is one bad thing. But shoved out to be the opening act without any initial warning felt like maybe he was staring as the main act in the universe’s own little late night comedy skit show. 

 

 

 

\- - - - 

 

 

 

Renjun stood at the darkened stage, hands gripping, no, clawing at his guitar and he felt all the moisture drained from his mouth cavity. 

 

_ 'I'm not gonna be able to sing...' _ his eyes were blasted open, wide and blood shot, staring at the rows of people sitting in front of the stage's horizon, _ 'I'm going to embarrass myself...' _

 

"Quiet down everybody! Camera rolling in 15 seconds... 13... 12..." The countdown to the final showdown felt agonizingly flat, and slow, compared to the racing beat of his heart. 

 

It was apparent, painfully clear that Renjun was scared off his socks, standing gangly and stiff, it was hard to look at him without getting a severe case of secondhand embarrassment. 

 

And so, even though he couldn't deny the fact that his own heart was also thumping so loudly everytime he saw the blinking red light of those massive, very expensive looking camera, Jaemin reached over and gave his friend’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

 

"Hey," with that, Renjun's head snapped to his direction, brow knotted close in an expression of pure terror, "just look at me."

 

_ 'Look at me,'  _ his voice lingered, replayed over and over like a good luck mantra.  _ Good luck? I need that. _ And so he did. Renjun looked only at Jaemin as he smiled and nodded reassuringly,  _ 'just like how you'd do when you're showing me your new songs in those cheap studios with low ceilings that smelled too much like over fermented rice wine.' _

 

Staring at Jaemin under the ambient light made it look like they weren’t really  _ there _ . The smoke, the low hum of machineries surrounding them, the murmurs of the audience, made it felt like everything was just a very vivid dream. Yes. A dream. Hazy, padded, unreal dream. 

 

And with that thought in mind, Renjun felt a million ways better.

 

"Six... Five... Everyone on standby!" The lady with the clipboard stopped counting down with her voice and raised up her hand to use her fingers instead. She told them to start playing the moment she raised up her thumbs. 

 

_ 'Three...' _ Renjun’s grip flexed even tighter around the hilt before he finally let go and arranged his fingers on the starting chord for the song.

 

_ 'Two...' _ One last look over to Jaemin. He was still smiling, thank god. Renjun worried that his legs would give out underneath his and his guitar’s combined weight if he saw Jaemin’s frown in that precarious moment. A quick glance at the drummer boy and he was even more into the mood than everyone else, holding up his sticks up in the air ready to strike down, the grin on his face looking certifiably mad. 

 

_ 'One!' _

 

 

 

\- - - - 

 

 

 

"I can't believe it!" The drummer boy yelled as he rushed back to the backstage, leaving the overly energetic atmosphere of the stage where the sound of animated claps were still ringing in the air, "I can't believe we did that! It was so cool!"

 

Renjun couldn't believe it either. That he managed to pull through. Semi-flawlessly, although that was debatable. But still, he managed to pull it through. In that moment of stricken awe, he could only silently stare at his savior, his hero. He didn't even mind the increasing volume of noise when the next act took the stage. He also didn't mind when the drummer boy pulled all of them into a big, sweaty hug before he dashed off to the distance, god knows where.

 

After all the hullabaloo of the moment, the two of them could only stare at each other, musical instruments still slung sloppily across their shoulders, breath hitched because of all the excitement and adrenaline rushing through their veins, and a silly grin pasted onto their face. 

 

"I can't believe that..." finally Renjun opened up with a weaker recital of the drummer boy’s phrase. But after that, the sentence was left hanging, free for anyone to go and fill in the dots.

 

In the end, it was Jaemin who did so, "I can't believe you let me sing."

 

"You knew the lyrics, you have a great voice, why shouldn't I?" The tone of Renjun's voice gradually became more laid back, like how it was supposed to be, like how it was always  _ meant _ to be, once he realized that the worse was far behind him.

 

"How could you be so sure? What if my voice turned out to be like frogs croaking?" 

 

Renjun gave out a free laugh, the first of the night, as he pulled them aside from the center of the crowded aisle, walking back further down the corridor so they could sit on the dingy amplifier hidden in the dark nook underneath the rickety stairwell. With a friend at his side, the place no longer felt as dingy as it was before.

 

"You’re not the only one who like to secretly eavesdrop on people, you know."

 

"You heard them?" Jaemin's said, his eyes widening in shock.

 

If Jaemin was referring to the times when he belted cheesy pop songs in the shower, then the answer was yes. Everytime. Without fail. 

 

But before Renjun could elaborate, the phone on his back pocket began to buzz, one after another after another. Without checking, he knew for sure it was his worried band mates trying to reach him, two who were probably lying on hospital beds, and one sitting on a crowded airport waiting room. 

 

Apologies, questions asking how it went, good luck words, apologies again. After finally addressing the situation and everyone has calmed down, Renjun looked back up to find Jaemin still sitting beside him, still with a smile on his face, but something was different. There was a glint of realization to the fact that he was there just a replacement. Nothing permanent, this fun thing the two of them just did. Just a chance for him to taste his fifteen seconds of fame. It was an understanding smile. And it hurt Renjun more than he could bear.

 

Feeling like usual words of assurance weren't going to make it, Renjun instead asked him something that he felt should’ve been said a long time ago,

 

"Would you like to join our practice from now on?" Seeing the question brewing underneath the other's eyes, Renjun went and elaborate on Chenle’s situation, “at least until he’s all settled up,- and even after. Permanently,-  _ definitely  _ permanently. So? What do you say?”

 

When all was said and done, Jaemin wasted no time to say yes. A bit too enthusiastically, even. After today’s stage, he why he never got the thrill and joy of performing. He got nobody to share the nerve, to huddle together in stress and in the end laugh out the success or failure of the performance. Magic how the addition of someone standing there with you could change the whole game through.

 

And so he said yes. By looking through that smile of gladness that shone through Renjun’s face, he knew it would be a decision he’ll never regret.

 

In the beginning of the day, the universe had taken everything from Renjun. In the end, she gave back to him so much more.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this story so long ago (like 4 years ago) and decided to finish it now because I need a quick story to post on Renjun's bday LOLOL
> 
> hmu @ my twitter [@moon__soil](https://twitter.com/moon__soil) ~


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